


May 8th, 1925

by Croik, delina



Series: Bang! Bang! BOOM! [3]
Category: Bang! Bang! BOOM! (Comics)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Original Fiction, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-03 23:19:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11542509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Croik/pseuds/Croik, https://archiveofourown.org/users/delina/pseuds/delina
Summary: On a warm night in May, Cheshire told Jakub that he trusted him.  Jakub always regretted not having his chance to reply.





	1. Chapter 1

After having known him for a year, Jakub was very certain that he _hated_ Cheshire Bloom.

He hated the way Cheshire dressed above every occasion, wearing vests and suit coats whether they were on their way to a bar or a heist. He hated watching Cheshire spend his entire share of a night’s haul on cufflinks just so he’d have an excuse to undo them whenever a fight reared its head. He hated every one of Cheshire’s brightly colored, handsewn, silky smooth neckties. Why did a seventeen year old hoodlum need so many neckties!?

He hated the gloves, too, especially because Cheshire was so eager to put them on him--poking his cheeks to tease him, grabbing him by the wrist when it was time to run, settling his broad palm against the back of Jakub’s neck those rare times he could sneak up unnoticed. He hated how easily Cheshire laughed as if every challenge was a delight, how he barreled into every situation with a lion’s courage. He hated that every time Cheshire did anything even slightly noteworthy, he’d look to him with that boyish, hopeful grin, eager for acknowledgement, and then Hannah would scold Jakub for encouraging him, even though he _wasn’t_ encouraging any of that explosive nonsense, not _ever_. 

And he _especially_ hated the heat that flickered in his stomach whenever Cheshire wrapped his arm around his shoulders. Hated how that laughter of his was so familiar it became notes in a song he couldn’t get out of his head. Hated the rush of adrenaline he felt whenever Cheshire was at his back for a job, convincing him that he could do almost anything. What was wrong with him, that he found himself drawn into the big oaf’s orbit time and time again? Even Cheshire’s teasing compliments made him blush; the sincere ones left him beside himself. 

He’d sit down for a drink, and Cheshire would throw himself into the space alongside, and the whole evening would buzz with energy just beneath his skin. “You must really hate him,” Barney would say. “You look sick whenever he’s around.”

And Jakub wouldn’t say anything, because like hell was he going to admit to anything else.

One particular night they were crammed into the corner of the Bottom Feeder, Cheshire’s favorite speakeasy, sipping booze they’d personally driven back from the farm. It had been a successful evening of shaking down the river-side Irish boys for cigarettes, and as the rest of Kozlow’s favorites crowded around, Cheshire was eager to show off, as per usual.

“I’ve been practicing,” he said, pinching one of their prizes in two fingers. “Watch this.”

“Everyone stand back,” someone teased, to a round of jeers. 

“No, really!” Cheshire insisted. “Look closely.”

The tip of the cigarette lit up with puff of fire. Everyone around--including Jakub--flinched back, too used to the explosive results of any use of Cheshire’s magic. But lo and behold, the cigarette did not burst into a fireball; after the initial smoke it burned very normally, and Cheshire even brought it to his lips. 

“Is that it?” asked Barney impatiently.

“Huh?” Cheshire choked briefly on the smoke as he waved the cigarette at him. “Come on, Barney, I’ve been practicing for weeks, here!”

The others cast shrugs and half-hearted smirks in his direction, wholly unimpressed. “All you did was light it,” said Barney, emboldened by their apathy. “A match can do that.”

“But you don’t know how hard it is to not….” Dissatisfied with their reactions, Cheshire looked to Jakub. “It’s not bad, right?”

It wasn’t bad, not at all. Jakub had never seen Cheshire combust only _part_ of an object before, in such a controlled manner, and had until then figured it wasn’t within his capability. When he held out his hand, Cheshire passed the cigarette to him, and he was surprised by how warm the rest of it felt. Praying he wasn’t about to have his face seared off, he took a drag.

It was damn good tobacco, the kind Jakub was lucky to get his hands on. That would have been enough, except there was something more to it--an extra taste he wasn’t used to, tangy on his tongue, just like the hint he sometimes got when Cheshire used his magic. He expected it to dissipate, but another puff proved him wrong.

“Well?” Cheshire said, and he was making that face again, hopeful and ridiculous. “How is it?”

“It tastes funny,” Jakub replied.

Cheshire continued to watch him closely. Jakub wasn’t sure what he was waiting for, but watching his excitement slowly crumble was unnervingly painful. So he added, “It’s not bad.”

Somehow, that was enough, and Cheshire’s good humor returned in full force. “See?” he said to the crowd, as if that proved anything at all. Even so, he still managed to be charming. 

“Let me try,” demanded Barney, reaching for the cigarette.

Jakub leaned back to avoid his grasping hand, even though that put him shoulder to shoulder with Cheshire. He wasn’t about to give up a cigarette, magic or not, and...he liked the taste. He gestured to the rest of their loot piled on the table. “Get your own.”

“I can light it for you,” Cheshire offered, already reaching for them. Barney scowled, but he did watch very closely as the magic flared again. Just as he started to take it, however, the length of the paper began to glow, and with a wince Cheshire tossed it into the air. It popped like a firecracker and the entire bar jumped.

“Sorry!” Cheshire grinned sheepishly as the ashes drifted to the floor and Barney muttered curses. “Sorry, that was me!” The other patrons returned to their business, eyes rolling. “Sorry. It’s really a lot harder than it looks.”

Jakub’s heart had skipped with the tiny blast, but his hand was very steady as he held his own cigarette away from his mouth. “Should I be worried?”

“Oh, no, yours is fine,” Cheshire assured. “It would have done it by now.” It shouldn’t have been reassuring, but Jakub went back to smoking anyway.

Cheshire reached for the cigarettes again, but Hannah was quick to scold him. “Well don’t try it on any more of these,” she said, gathering the boxes at her end of the table. “They’re worth a lot. Though I guess this explains why those new gloves you just bought are already singed.”

Cheshire laughed, thinking nothing of showing off the burn marks on his gloves. “Yeah, you should see my fingers. Like I said, I’ve been at it a long time.”

That piqued Jakub’s interest. “You burned your fingers?” he asked. “Somehow, I thought they were fireproof.”

“Oh, no,” Cheshire said, with enough humorous gravity that Jakub couldn’t help but wonder if there was a deeper story there. “Not at all--I gotta be careful trying to blow anything too close. But you would think that, huh?” He wiggled his fingers thoughtfully. “Sure would be nice not to worry about.”

“This is stupid,” muttered Barney. He swiped a few of the cigarettes from Hannah’s pile and climbed to his feet. “Don’t drink too much, either. We can’t sell it if you piss through it all night.” Still grumbling, he stalked off.

The rest of the table paid him little notice; only Cheshire looked even a little concerned about the abrupt departure. He sank back into the sofa next to Jakub. “Did I say something wrong?”

Jakub snorted. “You did almost burn his face off.”

“It wasn’t anywhere near his face when it blew,” Cheshire protested impishly. 

He fell quiet for a bit, which by itself was an accomplishment. Jakub wasn’t sure he believed that he was honestly upset about having ruffled Barney’s feathers, but then, he had all along managed to remain oblivious to Barney’s obvious contempt. The calm was a welcome reprieve; Jakub didn’t even mind when Cheshire stretched his arm across the back of the sofa, making the inside of his elbow into a headrest. They were all buzzed from the alcohol anyway--no one would notice if Jakub relaxed a little deeper into to the warmth of Cheshire’s side. He was, for a few minutes, even able to convince himself that it was just the indents in the sofa drawing him in closer. It was just the aftertaste of the magic making his skin prickle.

Then the band started up, and the mood changed. Cheshire straightened up with sudden, focused energy, and Jakub was so distracted it took him a moment to figure out the cause: the band’s newest vocalist.

She couldn’t have been much older than either of them, slender and tall with a head of wavy blonde hair and a face full of freckles even her makeup couldn’t hide. She tapped her foot to the beat of the base drum, causing the ruffle of her red dress to dance against her knee, captivating every man in the room. Almost, anyway; Jakub wouldn’t have taken a second glance if not for feeling Cheshire squirm beside him. The girl fluttered her long lashes and Cheshire grinned, probably smitten already. Figured.

“Who’s that?” Cheshire asked excitedly, jostling Jakub as he leaned forward in his seat.

“No,” said Hannah. “I’m not telling you.”

“So you _do_ know her name?”

Jakub wasn’t interested in sticking around until Cheshire moved from curious to pestering; he pushed to his feet, ignoring what might have been a question thrown his way. The back of his neck was warm from a heavy arm and he suddenly wanted to be rid of the sensation as quickly as possible. Though he meant to offer some excuse, his feet carried him toward the bar without his mouth having made any such effort. 

“What’d I say this time?” Cheshire asked Hannah in his wake, and Jakub scowled at himself, feeling childish.

At the bar, Barney was just as absorbed in the jazz singer as the rest of them, but he did cast Jakub a glance as he approached. “Reached your limit, huh,” he said knowingly.

“Yeah,” Jakub replied, just because it was easier than trying to explain anything. When Barney offered him half his pretzel, he accepted. As he nibbled he glanced back to the sofa, and he wasn’t surprised to see Cheshire still pressuring Hannah for information. “Who’s the girl?” he asked.

“Her name is Grace.” Barney struck a match against the bar to light his cigarette. “She’s from the girl’s school north of here. Hans the dock manager is her uncle.”

Jakub frowned. “School girls shouldn’t be in a place like this.”

“You’re telling me.” Barry leered at the stage. “But with a body like that, I’m not gonna discourage her. Would you?” When Jakub failed to respond, he snorted. “Oh yeah, sorry. You’re not into that.”

Jakub didn’t know how to respond to that, either, so he didn’t bother. He continued to eat his pretzel as he watched Grace finish her song. She couldn’t have been more than seventeen and it showed in her face when she smiled, unable to hide her youthful enthusiasm for the attention being showered on her. She looked a lot like Cheshire in that moment, and Cheshire was sure looking at her, practically out of his seat as he cheered and clapped.

Jakub squashed a wholly unwarranted feeling of betrayal. _It’s not like you didn’t know_ , he told himself, stamping his cigarette out in the nearest ashtray. “I’m going home.”

***

The next time Grace sang at the Bottom Feeder, Cheshire invited her to their table afterward.

No one would admit to having even told him her name, but he was armed with all kinds of knowledge, and he chatted her up all evening long. She was unrepentantly receptive to his attention. As the night wore on she seemed to nestle deeper and deeper into the sofa next to him, and by the end of it, she was tucked under his arm like she belonged there. Cheshire all but glowed. 

By then, Jakub had long since retreated to another table. He tried to concentrate on his drink and his cigarette, but Cheshire’s laughter echoing through the bar made both taste like magic. He should have left; it wasn’t as if Cheshire would have noticed. But Hannah would have.

“He’s no good for her,” said Hannah, watching the pair of light-headed teens giggle at each other. “But they are kind of cute.”

“Don’t you mean the opposite?” Jakub replied, but he immediately regretted it when Hannah’s attention swerved to him. He looked away. “The last thing he needs is someone encouraging him.”

Hannah didn’t respond for a long time; he was too afraid to look. At last she let out a tiny huff that might have been amusement. “Right.”

Jakub cringed, but he didn’t know what he could say that would minimize what was probably a lost cause already. He refused to meet her eyes the rest of the night.

***

“Her name is Grace,” Cheshire said, as animated as ever, as he peeked under another picture frame. “Grace Overgaard. Isn’t that so…so _distinguished_?”

“I know her name,” Jakub retorted as he pawed through the drawers. “She’s been at the bar every night this week.”

Cheshire moved on to the next portrait, being more careful than seemed necessary, considering Jakub was dumping out the contents of every container the apartment had to offer. Normally Jakub himself would have been the cautious one, but Cheshire hadn’t stopped chattering since they set out for their latest scavenger hunt, and it was putting him on edge. “She’s from Denmark,” Cheshire prattled on. “She came over when she was ten. That means she’s been here longer than you, right? What was it, fifteen?”

Jakub tried to ignore him, but then Cheshire called, “Weren’t you fifteen when you came over?” 

Jakub rubbed his face. “Fourteen.”

“By yourself, too! That’s kind of wild. Ooh, found it.” 

Jakub glanced over just in time to catch Cheshire face light up with anticipatory glee. It made his heart skip and he quickly looked away again. “Warn me before you blow anything,” he said.

“Anyway, she was ten,” Cheshire continued as he removed a handsome portrait from the wall. He set it down carefully against the master bed. “She was with her parents, but they died on the boat before they could make it here. Isn’t that terrible? Gosh, I just...I feel so bad for her.”

Jakub grimaced uncomfortably at the string of pearls he was shoving into his satchel. “Yeah.”

“Her uncle is paying for her schooling, now. He probably feels guilty, since it was his idea they all come over in the first place. Isn’t that so sad?” Jakub could hear Cheshire spinning the dials of the combination safe. “She’s been singing to help him out a little. She’s really amazing, you know.”

Jakub finished with the vanity and turned back, only to be met with the unusual sight of Cheshire pressing his ear to door of the wall safe. “What are you doing?”

“Hm? Oh, I’m listening.” Cheshire winked. “Maybe I can crack it the quiet way?”

It was such a ridiculous notion that Jakub couldn’t help a snort. “You would have to stop talking for that.”

Cheshire made a face at him, but his good humor was unfazed. “You make it sound _so hard_ ,” he said, and he clapped his mouth shut.

Jakub stopped to watch. He expected Cheshire to break at any moment, but sure enough he kept quiet, listening intently to whatever was going on inside the safe as he carefully turned the dial. _He can’t really do it_ , Jakub thought, even though the longer he watched, the more he felt hairs rising on the back of his neck. _He doesn’t even know how in principle._ But seeing Cheshire so quiet and focused was still a rare occurrence, and it filled him with an indescribable feeling.

“What about _your_ parents?” Jakub asked without really knowing why.

“Huh?” Cheshire’s expression twitched. “Sorry, I’m listening really hard over here. I didn’t catch that”

 _Sure you didn’t_. Jakub itched with curiosity, but he knew that if he pressed for an answer there was a good chance Cheshire would put the question back to him, and he already regretted risking that. “I said, I don’t think you have a devil’s chance of getting that open,” he said as he moved closer.

“‘A chance in Hell,’” Cheshire corrected him, smirking. “Damn, though, you’re probably right.” He leaned back. “Get ready to run.”

Jakub hefted his satchel, ready to move out of the way, but it wasn’t a premature contained explosion that caused him to jump--it was the sound of a key being fit into the front door lock. The bedroom window was already open, and they had plenty of time to reach it. There was no reason to panic.

And then Cheshire’s arm snaked around his waist, all sturdy muscle and urgency. Jakub’s brain went mushy. Without word or warning Cheshire pulled him out of the way, and a moment later the door of the safe exploded off its hinges in a burst of fire and smoke. Whoever had been opening the front door shouted in alarm. Cheshire only took a moment more to grab the contents of the safe and then he was moving again, all but carrying Jakub to the open window.

“You go first,” he said, and Jakub was too dumbfounded to argue. As soon as Cheshire’s arm loosened he clambered out onto the fire escape and headed up. It was a warm, spring night--there were still some people out on the streets, complicating a ground level escape. But once on the roof, all the chattering people and honking cars fell away, and Jakub allowed himself a moment’s reprieve with wind in his hair.

Then Cheshire was with him again, grabbing him by the arm to help him along. It was completely unnecessary and Jakub did nothing to discourage him. 

They ran almost the entire way back to their own building, climbing in through Jakub’s window. With their take strewn on the floor they both collapsed onto the bed to catch their breath. Cheshire was laughing long before he had his back, and Jakub had to admit that on nights like this, it was impossible to hate him at all. Settled on their backs they were close enough to touch, bodies warm and lax from the run, and he was tempted. It would have been so easy to just roll over and…

“That was a close one, huh?” Cheshire said, loosening his necktie.

Jakub startled for no reason at all and turned away, fearful that Cheshire would see his stupid impulse in his face. “Not really. They wouldn’t have reached the bedroom in time.”

Cheshire laughed some more. “I really envy you, Jakub,” he said. “Nothing rattles you.”

“Me?” Jakub sat up, hoping that even that little distance would help clear his head. “ _You’re_ the one who laughs at _everything_.”

“I do not,” Cheshire retorted, laughing.

“You’re doing it right now!”

“It’s not my fault, though.” Cheshire pushed his bangs out of his face, staring up at Jakub with what might have been sincere fondness. “I have so much fun with you.”

Jakub was speechless. He couldn’t even be sure of what that meant let alone how to respond. Was he being _mocked_? That smile twisted his stomach in knots--even if Cheshire was being earnest, what did it mean? His face felt hot, and he was sure that if nothing else, Cheshire would finally be able to see his mad secret.

“Hey,” said Cheshire after a few moment’s pause. “Wanna see something?”

Jakub gulped. He didn’t know why, but he sensed something different beneath Cheshire’s usual eagerness. “Is it going to explode?”

Cheshire’s smile turned devilish, and he sat up, taking off his jacket. Jakub struggled between anticipation and apprehension as he watched him hop to his feet. “I know I’m not the first person you’ve met who could use magic,” Cheshire said as he dragged the room’s only chair over. “But I’ll bet you haven’t seen anything like this.” He sat down in front of Jakub, excited and anxious as he tugged his gloves off.

Jakub moved to the edge of the mattress, trying to hide the extent of his curiosity. It was only then that it occurred to him that despite the time they’d spent together, he might have not ever seen Cheshire without some pair of gloves. Why, was immediately apparent: Cheshire’s palms each bore a strange pattern tattooed on them in red, made up of crossing lines and circles, contained in a ring. Jakub had to admit, he hadn’t seen anything like it on a living person.

“This is where the magic comes from,” Cheshire explained, flexing his fingers. Watching the shapes bend with his skin gave Jakub unexpected goose bumps. “It’s a trip, isn’t it? Here, I’ll show you.”

Cheshire reached into the pocket of his waistcoat and pulled out a cigarette--one from the loot packages Hannah was supposed to have been keeping him from. Holding it in one hand, he displayed his other palm to Jakub. “Watch this,” he said.

The end of the cigarette poofed with fire, and at the same time the pair of sigils lit up as well. The tattoos glowed a bright crimson, unearthly, which quickly dulled back to normal a moment later. When Cheshire offered the cigarette, Jakub accepted, breathing in the familiar aftertaste.

_That’s not human_ , Jakub’s instincts warned him. _Not natural, either._ But when he looked into Cheshire’s face, all he found there was the same boyish hope as always. He easily understood that he was the benefactor of a great risk on Cheshire’s part, to have been entrusted with what he was seeing, and it had his chest swelling. 

“How did you get it?” he asked, still watching the tattoos as if they might light up again.

“It’s a very long story,” Cheshire replied, his lip quirking. 

A story he didn’t immediately launch into. Jakub had no idea where Cheshire’s limit actually was when it came to prying, as he’d never had the courage to push those few times Cheshire kept something to himself. Taking a chance, he said, “It almost looks demonic.”

Cheshire hesitated, even though the pinch in his smile gave away his answer. “It pretty much is,” he admitted, searching Jakub’s face for his reaction. “Does that scare you?”

Jakub frowned thoughtfully, and answered, “No, not really.” Barney, it would--the Kozlows were, despite appearances, devout Catholics, their tolerance for Cheshire’s magic stretched only so far as it profited them. Even Hannah would likely have second thoughts being anywhere near him if she laid eyes on the source. Jakub, on the other hand, had grown up unburdened by fears of a Christian Hell, and though the red gleam was eerie, he preferred to reserve his concerns for human adversaries. 

“We all have our tools,” he said, and seeing Cheshire’s relief made the tobacco taste sweeter. “But why are you telling me this now?”

“Well...it seemed like as good a time as any.” Cheshire smiled bashfully as he undid his necktie, giving Jakub a glimpse of shy vulnerability he was sure to be hating later. “I’ve wanted to tell you all along, I just wasn’t sure you’d….” He sat up straighter, refreshing his confidence. “I trust you,” he declared, and suddenly Jakub felt as if he was curled up under his arm again, his brain helpless jam. “I’d like it if we were...you know.” He tossed his tie onto his jacket on the bed as he tried to find the words to explain further, and Jakub found himself leaning forward, eager and terrified to hear them. “If we were--”

There was a knock on the door. Both startled, and Jakub couldn’t help but scowl as he stalked to the door to investigate through the peephole.

A head full of blonde hair waited on the other side. Jakub’s heart sank.

Cheshire hurried to replace his gloves. “Jakub? Who is it?”

Jakub opened the door, and in peered Grace. She was still dressed in the long skirt and high-necked blouse of her school uniform, only a shawl to protect her from the night air. She looked chilled, but that quickly changed when she spotted Cheshire; her face lit up as if each of her freckles was glowing. 

Cheshire vaulted to his feet, light as air. “Grace! What are you doing here?”

“One of the boys at the club said you lived in this building,” said Grace, smiling with an exaggerated effort at confidence. “From there I just had to follow your laugh.”

Cheshire may as well have circled the moon. It was almost infuriating. “You shouldn’t be in this part of town this late,” Jakub scolded her, even though it was clear nothing would rein either of them in. “Not by yourself.”

“Yes, he’s right!” Cheshire crowed, even though he was grinning ear to ear. He hurried over to gently take her elbows. “But I’m glad you did. I was so sorry to miss you sing tonight.”

Grace hesitated only for a beat; Jakub could see the courage she was rallying as if it were marching like tiny soldiers up her spine. “I could give you an encore,” she said. “In private.”

“Yes,” Cheshire replied, almost before she was finished speaking. “Yes, I’d...I’d love that.” He flashed Jakub an excited grin and then guided Grace back into the hall, toward his own room next door. “My place is right here! I don’t have much, but there’s some booze….”

“Yes, please!”

They slipped into Cheshire’s apartment, giggling like idiots, and Jakub closed his door. If they were...what? “Friends” most likely, but that wouldn’t stop Jakub from speculating for ages to come. Exhausted and sick to his stomach, he wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and sleep until he remembered what sanity was. He snuffed his cigarette out in an ashtray and dropped to the mattress, only to immediately remember that Cheshire had left his jacket behind.

Jakub stared at it for a long time while listening to Cheshire and Grace’s ridiculous chatter filter through the too-thin apartment walls. They sounded so damn pleased with themselves, even if he couldn’t make out the words. They were probably going to have _so much fun_ together. Maybe he would even show her his secret magic, and Jakub hated himself for thinking even for a moment that he was special.

Jakub grabbed the jacket, determined to throw it on the floor. He even considered returning it, just for the excuse of interrupting Cheshire and his “date.” But once the fabric was between his fingers, he paused, and ended up drawing it closer. He ran his fingertips along the lining and was surprised by how soft it felt. He didn’t own clothes this fine. He could have, if he’d wanted to--he could spend his hard-earned take on frivolities, not a care in the world for future concerns. Maybe it would have dulled his appreciation for the thing, but then again, maybe not. Cheshire never seemed to love his indulgences any less.

Jakub buried his nose in the jacket. It was still warm, and it smelled like sweat and magic. He breathed it in, reminded of a few wonderful minutes crammed together on a bar sofa, leaning into Cheshire’s side with laughter in his ears. Of Cheshire’s strong arm snaking protectively around his waist. Maybe if he had done something more, he thought. If he had wriggled a little closer, smiled and blushed like Grace did….

Gradually, the apartment on the other side of the wall went quiet. Jakub well understood why but he tried to put it out of his head, instead grabbing up Cheshire’s discarded necktie. It was even softer than the suit, probably not real silk but close enough to Jakub’s rough hands. He wove it between his fingers and wondered if that was how the inside of the leather gloves felt. He wondered if Cheshire’s hands, always carefully hidden away, were soft and pale from so rarely being worked. He didn’t have knobby knuckles, sun spots, cracked nails--just seams of ancient, glowing magic. They were probably as smooth as an imitation silk necktie and hot like summer.

 _I’m an idiot,_ Jakub thought, but he touched the glove he’d made from twisting the tie between his fingers to his face, enjoying its slick texture against his skin. _This is pathetic._ He rubbed the tie back and forth across his freckles anyway, reminding himself of the many times Cheshire had complimented them.

A quiet squeal of bedsprings from the other room made Jakub’s heart skip, and despite telling himself ferociously that he ought to just leave altogether, instead he held his breath. With his nose still blanketed by Cheshire’s lapel, he strained his ears for clues as to the other room’s going-ons. They were giggling again, their voices cutting in and out as their mattress offered increasing complaints. It wasn’t a difficult scene to picture, and Jakub’s usually tempered imagination supplied him with a vivid image of Cheshire and Grace squirming together atop the bed, inexperienced but passionate, their heated breaths filling in the spaces of their laughter.

 _Just leave, just leave_ , Jakub told himself again, but he still had no drive to obey. He was too busy listening to each shift and creak, and finally, _finally_ , a quiet rumble of Cheshire’s voice, rising in startled pleasure, ebbing away into sigh of awe. As far as Jakub was concerned, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard, and he tingled from head to toe.

“Are you sure?” Cheshire asked, and Jakub flinched, not expecting to be able to hear him so clearly. He didn’t hear Grace’s answer, but the creak of the mattress said enough.

They were going through with it. Jakub squeezed his eyes shut and burrowed deeper into Cheshire’s jacket, as if its familiarity could block out everything else. He tried to think only about a year’s worth of fleeting touches and boyish teasing, not the telltale clink of a belt being unfastened. But his shame was still no match for his imagination, and when he heard Grace moan, he slipped his hand beneath his shirt, fantasizing that he was in her place with Cheshire’s broad palm gliding across his stomach. He focused intently on the bed frame beneath him, hoping to catch every vibration of their bodies moving. But it was Cheshire’s voice that best fueled his arousal, each soft murmur and gasp tickling his nerve endings. It didn’t take much before he was fully hard, any remaining denial out the window.

He wished it was him. He listened to Grace whimper with delight and wanted nothing more than for it to be him, Cheshire’s broader body crushing him into the old mattresses, reeking of magic. He wanted hot leather skating up and down his naked body and feather-soft hair tangled in his fingers. He wanted Cheshire to want it, too. And when the tempo changed, when Jakub knew for sure Cheshire was inside her, making love to her, he couldn’t hold back any longer; he struggled his pants open and shoved his hand down inside, wrapping up his eager cock with sweaty fingers laced with the best approximation of Cheshire he could manage.

It felt so much better than Jakub had anticipated; he had to smother his face even deeper in Cheshire’s jacket to keep his groans from being heard. He stroked in time to the beat of the bed frame against his wall, ashamed and enraptured by the searing fantasy that it really was Cheshire with him, covering and pleasuring him with lily-smooth skin and hot breath on his face. For those perfect moments he could even imagine that Cheshire’s magic was flowing through him, drawing its impossible heat into his belly, then rushing it to every other part of his body with each pump of his fist in threads of glowing red. It was such a electrifying, painful dream, and he prayed it would never end.

Too soon, the pair beyond the wall drew to a blissful climax. Jakub shuddered beneath the ripples of Cheshire’s charming voice, trying to hurry himself as well, but it just wasn’t enough. Already they were winding down and the room was going quiet again. Jakub clenched curses in his throat as he rolled awkwardly onto his stomach, trying to staunch his own sounds of friction as he stroked frantically to release. It wasn’t anything like the ending he would have hoped for, fantasy shattered with cold air on the back of his neck, but he squirmed and whimpered until he was spent. And then he held his breath.

There was a chance they’d heard that. For several minutes Jakub held absolutely still in a state of near horror, listening for any indication. He didn’t really expect Cheshire let alone Grace to march over and make a fool of him, but the threat kept him motionless until, thankfully, he could hear the pair softly conversing with each other. They were only interested in sharing pillow talk after all.

Jakub rolled onto his back. A few deep breaths helped to clear his head, and then he felt worse than ever. _Why him?_ he thought as he unwound the necktie from his fingers. _Why did it have to be him?_

He was still in bed, pillowed by Cheshire’s jacket and feeling sorry for himself, when there was a knock on the door some time later.

Jakub gulped. He scrambled to cram the necktie under his blankets and fasten his pants. There was only one person who it could have been, and he steeled himself as best he could as he opened the door partway.

Cheshire was on the other side, his hair down and mussed, eyes alight. “Hey,” he said through a grin. “Did I take my jacket off in here? I’m going to walk Grace home.”

Jakub’s heart thudded, but somehow his face remained calm. “Yeah, wait there,” he heard himself say. He strode quickly to the bed to snatch up the jacket, taking only a brief moment to look it over. It was rumpled, a small stain of drool near the armpit that could easily be mistaken for sweat. Jakub had goosebumps as he returned to Cheshire in the doorway to hand it over. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Cheshire folded it over his arm, but then paused. “What about my tie?”

“No,” Jakub said almost too quickly. “It’s not here.”

“Oh.” Cheshire frowned thoughtfully, but it wasn’t possible that he suspected. Jakub began to sweat anyway, even as Cheshire turned to leave. “Thanks. We can go over the take tomorrow, huh?” He flashed Jakub a wink. “I’ll tell you all about it.”

“You don’t need to,” Jakub replied before he could stop himself. “I could hear everything.”

Cheshire’s smile turned shy, which was just too much. “Goodnight,” said Jakub, and he shut the door.


	2. Chapter 2

“Can I ask you something?” Grace asked as she buttoned Cheshire’s coat around her.

“Of course!” Cheshire replied, utterly devoid of the caution that should have been aroused by such a question. As far as he was concerned he was on top of the world, exhausted but happily so, Grace’s shawl draped over his shoulders like a badge of honor. It was likely a Godsend that there weren’t more people wandering the sidewalks by then, because he was sure he looked like a grinning fool. Not so different than normal, some might have said, but the last thing he wanted was to embarrass Grace in front of strangers.

Grace hooked her arm through his as they walked. “Was that your first time?”

Cheshire’s mind went white. He had no idea if he would be better served by a version of the truth or a lie, let alone could he think of either, let alone could he speak. They went for several steps in total silence, and it wasn’t until Grace gave his elbow a tug that he was able to recollect his scattered wits. “No!” he blurted out, and then laughed, which could have only thrown his answer into doubt. “No, of course not,” he recovered poorly. “Sorry, it’s just...hard to explain? I’m not sure if the last time...counted?”

Grace giggled, and normally the sound of it would have cured him of anything, but for the first time it only tangled his brain further. “It’s not that complicated,” she teased him. “Did you or didn’t you?”

“We, ah….” Cheshire gulped. All he could think about were hands, too many hands, gripping him from all sides, and he started to sweat. “We did. There were three of us, actually—it was kind of sudden.” He glanced to Grace hesitantly, and seeing her eyebrows arching made him blush all the way through his ears. “Honestly, I don’t even remember it that well,” he babbled. “It wasn’t my idea. You know, sometimes I think I might have dreamt the whole thing? I mean, I’m pretty sure it happened, but….”

He trailed off when Grace began to laugh. “Chesh, it’s okay,” she said, and he started to feel real relief until she added, “You can just say it was your first time. You don’t always have to make up stories.”

“I don’t make up stories,” Cheshire protested, rubbing his nose. His shoulders slackened even though he felt more uneasy than ever. “What about you? Was that…?”

Grace hummed like she was going to keep him in suspense but then surrendered the truth. “Nope, but only by one. Are you disappointed?”

“Should I be?” Cheshire realized a beat too late that she’d probably been expecting a different answer, but he was still frazzled, still thinking about fingerprints on his palms. “I mean, it wasn’t... _bad_...right…?”

She giggled at him some more. It was starting to sound like another language he had no hope of interpreting. “No, of course not.” She hugged his arm closer—that, at least, he understood. “You were...very gentle. I liked that.”

With her cheek pressed to his shoulder, Cheshire couldn’t hope to judge her sincerity from her face, but he did allow himself some hope. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

Cheshire breathed a quiet sigh. At least if she thought he was a liar, she wouldn’t ask him again. “I’m glad.”

They reached Grace’s dormitory, and as they exchanged outerwear, Grace became a bit more serious. “Cheshire, please don’t tell anyone,” she said. “If it got back to my uncle….”

Cheshire had only met the ferociously protective Hans Overgaard once, and that was plenty for his liking. “I won’t,” he promised, but then he winced. “Well, Jakub knows. But you don’t have to worry about him—he’s no rat.”

“That boy has no music in him,” Grace said disapprovingly as she took hold of the rod iron fence surrounding the building. “I don’t understand why you spend so much time with him.”

“He’s got...uh, plenty of music...in him…?” Cheshire winced at himself as he laced his fingers, giving her a boost. “I don’t really know what that means, but Jakub is a good friend. Yeah.”

Grace hopped the fence, landing deftly on the other side. “If you say so.”

Cheshire took hold of the fence, and whatever doubts had plagued him during the trip, Grace covering his hands with hers cast them aside. “I’ll see you at the bar for my next song, right?” she asked. “I always sing better when you’re cheering for me.”

“I’ll be there.” Cheshire leaned down to kiss the back of her knuckles. “Don’t get in trouble.”

“Of course not.” Grace winked as she pulled away, and she hurried toward the dormitory quiet as a mouse. Cheshire waited until she was safely through an open first floor window before turning to leave.

The walk home was much quieter. Cheshire kept off the main streets, eager to stay out of the path of any late night coppers looking for a pair of jewelry thieves. He whistled for most of it, drifting between different melodies he’d heard Grace sing, just to keep his mind from wandering too far off. He hoped that by the time he arrived home he would be so tired he could fall asleep right away and not dream.

He was only three blocks away when he heard footsteps behind him, and a voice asked, “That you, Bloom?”

“Yes?” Cheshire turned toward him and was completely unprepared for the sucker punch that caught him full in the face.

Cheshire stumbled back, his glasses sent flying as he caught himself against a brick wall. Just one punch shouldn’t have hurt that much, but already his head was spinning. Someone was reaching for him, someone _big_. He threw a punch of his own but all he succeeded in doing was rattling his wrist, because the big man only faltered for a moment and there was more than one of him. Several pairs of hands grabbed him from all sides and dragged him around the corner, into an alley.

“Remember me?” the biggest of the three snarled, his fingers thick and strong like links of heavy chain as they twisted into Cheshire’s collar. “You know who I am?”

He slammed Cheshire’s back to the wall, knocking the air out of his lungs and ringing his bell all over again. The alley smeared dizzily; all Cheshire could make out was a pile of trash near the opposite wall. He reached for it as he’d been taught, picturing a fire roaring beneath the layers of refuse, but with his focus shattered the best he could do was shower his assailants with a burst of sizzling debris.

Two of the men jumped, cursing as they swatted the ash and cinders from their clothing, but not the biggest one. He grabbed Cheshire by the arm and swung him about, shoving him chest first to the wall and wrenching his elbow painfully. The brick scraped his cheek and jaw raw, but it wasn’t until he felt the flat press of a knife against his ear that real panic set in.

“Try that again,” the man growled as his pals returned, grabbing at his coat and hair to keep him still. “I’ll put this through your eye.”

Cheshire tried to squirm, but the grip on his arm only tightened. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go—there should have been a way out. He’d seen Jakub slip out of some uneven scuffles but for the life of him he couldn’t remember how. 

The knife scraped across his cheek, until he could see a fuzzy hint of the blade in the corner of his eye. “Who are you?” he asked, barely daring to breathe. “I’m not—”

“Name’s Shane,” the big man said, but the name didn’t register until he carried on. “Shane _Foley_. You roughed up sum’a my boys a while back over some cigarettes. Remember now?”

_Oh_. Cheshire had been too excited over the score, and how pleased Jakub had been with the quality of the loot, to even remember much of the fight that had earned it. Hadn’t Barney said the river-side boys were too small and too stupid to make a fuss over cigarettes? “That was….” Cheshire took a deep breath, thinking maybe there was still a way to talk himself loose. “That was some fine quality tobacco.”

“Yeah, no shit it was,” said Foley. “Over a quarter a pack.”

“I’ll pay it back,” Cheshire said hurriedly. He even chuckled, out of habit. “This jacket is worth more than the lot twice over.”

“You think that’s funny?” Foley pulled the knife back, and Cheshire was foolishly optimistic about his chance until the fist crashed into his temple. The brick took a layer of skin off his nose, but it was the impact shuddering down his neck that made his entire body ache. Then the knife was back, digging into the side of his throat. The blade was dull, but he knew that would only make it that much worse when Foley put his arm into it.

“I heard a little rumor,” Foley said close to his ear, breath hot and foul. “All that firestarting you do, it burns you, too. Which is why you haven’t lit up my friend here, huh?” He tapped the knife against Cheshire’s throat. “That’s right, ain’t it? Say so.”

Cheshire gulped and felt the blade drag against his skin. “That’s...that’s right.”

“Which means I can cut you up good, and you can’t do a thing about it,” Foley continued, and Cheshire cringed. “I ain’t gonna kill you, okay?” He adjusted his grip on the knife so that the point jabbed Cheshire in the corner of his jaw. “You just hold still for a bit while I carve my twenty packs outta your hide. Then we’re even.”

“Wait,” Cheshire gasped, but the men only laughed, drowning him out. “Wait! I can just….” He shut up when he felt the tip break his skin. It was barely enough to draw blood, but _he felt it_ , and desperation coursed all through him.

_Anything?_ he remembered asking a pair of beautiful strangers, and they had smiled at him, promising, _Yes. Anything._

Cheshire pressed his palm as flat as he could against Foley’s chest. Even through his panic he could feel the shape of the man, outlining the heart of him like lines of a charcoal sketch. He put a fire in him.

In an instant Foley was gone, but it wasn’t anything like Cheshire was used to. Safes, boxes, even cigarettes he’d incinerated with plumes of fire and ash; Foley split apart like overripe fruit. Flesh and bone disintegrated in a gush of formless blood that drenched Cheshire and his remaining assailants. The splash of it against his back was revolting, but worse was the rush of heat that came with it, as if the explosion he’d expected of his victim was igniting in his veins. His palms burned as if beneath an iron, his face stinging in jagged lines that he for a moment thought were Foley’s knife. But he was loose, and he leaned hard against the alley wall as he turned to see what he’d done.

There was nothing left of Foley but a gooey smear. His two cronies were soaked in it, and they looked to Cheshire with abject terror, the whites of their eyes grotesquely wide against the crimson coating them. Cheshire couldn’t breathe as their faces carved themselves into the inside of his skull. When one of them finally had wits enough to start to turn, Cheshire went tight with fresh panic.

It was easier, the second time. Both men exploded into slop, painting the alley floor. Cheshire watched each drop hit the ground, and as everything went quiet again, he turned away and vomited.

He’d always known it was possible. His youthful imagination had even supplied him with speculation a time or two, but nothing like this. The alley stank of blood and sulfur, only a few lumps among the stains any evidence of the men that had stood there only moments ago. Cheshire found himself trying to trace some kind of recognizable shape in the mess, and only then realized how clear his vision suddenly was. Without his glasses he shouldn’t have been able to make out anything in such dim lighting, but every inch was was piercing.

When he squeezed his eyes shut, he could feel fire against the inside of his eyelids. When he took a deep breath, he could taste it in the base of his throat. He looked down and found the red of his sigils gleaming even through his gloves, each ring and line a stinging brand that he could feel crossing his forehead, cheeks, and chin. He was lit up like a demon and at any moment someone could walk by and—

A sob clawed out of him, and he clapped his hand over his mouth to keep from making another sound. Without sparing one more glance for the blood he turned and fled.

***

When Jakub awoke to the muffled sound of a small _boom_ , he assumed dreams of a certain long-haired idiot had chased him out of sleep. Then he smelled the blood.

Jakub bolted upright. As his eyes adjusted to the darkened room he had the fleeting impression that it was much larger than he remembered, his ears ringing with distant memories of trucks rumbling across cobblestones. But it wasn’t gunsmoke stinging his nostrils, just the familiar scent of youthful magic, and he sighed.

“The hell is he exploding this time of night?” Jakub muttered, and he started to lie down again, only to realize that the odor of blood hadn’t faded with the rest of his sleepy reminiscences. When he strained his ears he could hear someone making use of the showers in the floor bathroom, and after finding his pants, he investigated.

The stench was even stronger when he opened the door. Jakub readied himself as he crept inside, no idea what he would find. A metal wash basin in the corner was smoking, piles of black ash inside that he could smell were Cheshire’s handwork. “Cheshire?”

“No,” said Cheshire from one of the stalls. “I mean, I’m fine? Who’s there?”

Jakub frowned, wanting to be irritated, but something seemed very wrong. He moved to the stalls and found Cheshire showering, momentarily distracted by the sight of his broad, naked back beneath the water. Then he looked down and realized just how much red was heading down the drain.

“What happened?” he asked, apprehension prickling under his skin.

“Huh? What do you mean?” There was something manic in Cheshire’s tone, but more troubling, he was covering his face with both hands, not making any attempt to actually wash himself. He had yet to look back, either.

Jakub went cold with dread. “Cheshire, what happened to Grace?”

“What?” That finally got Cheshire to turn, and he looked to Jakub in alarm. The spark of fright in his eyes was enough to give Jakub goose bumps, even though he was quick to blink it away. “Oh, Grace went home. I walked her home.”

“Then what the hell is going on?”

Cheshire turned his face back to the spray, scrubbing vigorously at his cheeks, jaw, and scalp. “Nothing happened—I’m taking a shower.”

Jakub squirmed with frustration approaching real fear—something _was_ very wrong. He knew Cheshire, his voice and his mannerisms, and everything about him was screaming a very different message than his lies were trying to convey. “You’re washing blood out of your hair,” Jakub snapped. “And it sure looks like you burned your favorite suit in the wash bucket. Tell me what happened, right now.”

Cheshire flinched, and though for a moment it looked as if he were going to try and keep up the hopeless act, abruptly his shoulders sagged. “I...I got in a fight,” he admitted quietly.

He sounded more honest at least, but Jakub was still wary. He’d never seen Cheshire shy away from a fight, either. He started to ask if he was all right, but a quick glance over his body showed no obvious injuries, and he didn’t want to give Cheshire a reason to insist he was fine again. “Who was it?”

“I don’t know,” Cheshire lied badly. “I didn’t see their faces that well, it...happened fast, I managed to….”

Jakub waited, not patiently but attentively, for Cheshire to give up the rest of the story, but it soon became apparent that he was wasting his time. Disappointment turned him sour. “You told me you trusted me,” he said. “You don’t have to lie.”

Cheshire cringed into his shoulders, but he didn’t look back, and he didn’t answer. He looked small and almost pathetic, and all Jakub could do was sigh. He reached around Cheshire to shut off the water.

“You’re going to get sick,” he muttered as he left the stall to look for a suitable towel. “Showering in cold water in the middle of the night….”

It wasn’t until Cheshire had his towel and was drying off that he found his voice again. “It wasn’t much of a fight,” he said, rubbing furiously at his hair as if he still expected there to be some blood in it. “He just...bled a lot more than I expected. I’m not used to that...that kind of fighting, you know? Usually I just….”

“Yeah,” said Jakub, even though he still didn’t believe a word out of Cheshire’s mouth. “You should get some sleep. Maybe you’ll tell me what really happened in the morning.”

Cheshire winced again, but all the guilting didn’t seem to be working, so Jakub turned to leave. “Wait,” Cheshire called him back, and he smiled, thin and sheepish. “Can you lead me to my room? I lost my glasses.”

Jakub took his elbow, guiding him out of the washroom and back down the hall. “How did you even make it back without them?” he asked as he forced the moldy lock to let them inside. “You’re nearly blind on your own.”

Cheshire shrugged. It was infuriating.

“Well, you’re here,” Jakub said as he deposited Cheshire on his bed. “Your spare glasses are right on the table.” If he stayed any longer he was sure his temper would get the better of him, so he turned again to go. “Goodnight, Bloom.”

Cheshire latched onto his wrist. His skin was damp and cold, spreading a chill all the way up Jakub’s arm. Jakub hated him for it, until he realized with another flash of concern that Cheshire’s hand was shaking. Their eyes met, and at last Jakub fully registered just how rattled Cheshire truly was—he wasn’t just nerved up, he was _afraid_. He’d never looked like that before and any anger Jakub had felt for him melted swiftly away.

“Are you, uh...going to sleep?” Cheshire asked, his smile askew and eyes pleading. “Sorry, I’m just….” He gulped. “I’m worried they might come for me.”

A pulse of protective instinct welled in Jakub’s chest, sharp enough to leave him momentarily breathless. He even looked to the door, expecting a slew of riverside hooligans to be awaiting his wrath; anyone who could reduce the unrelentingly cheerful Cheshire Bloom to such a state deserved and would probably require full force. Only once Jakub was certain of no immediate danger did he sit down next to Cheshire on the mattress.

“Who?” he asked, all but desperate to know. “Who might come after you?” 

Cheshire only lowered his head, refusing to answer. Jakub didn’t have it in him to be harsh. It had been a long time since he’d felt so determined and yet so helpless at the same time, and he wanted so terribly just to reach out—just to touch him, if that would do any good. To comfort him in some way where his other efforts had failed. He didn’t know how.

“Go to sleep, Chesh,” said Jakub, urging him to lie down. “I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

Cheshire’s expression crumpled with guilty relief. “You’ll stay?”

“Yeah. I’ll stay.” Jakub drew a blanket over him and then looked for another, still honestly concerned by Cheshire’s shivering. “Anyone coming after you will have to go through me.”

Cheshire sighed deeply, and watching the tension finally drain from his face made Jakub’s heart pound. “Thanks, Jake,” he said as he burrowed into the covers. “I’m sorry.”

Jakub didn’t know what to say, so he only tucked Cheshire in tighter and then sat back down on the bed. Though tempted to curl up alongside him, he was even more eager to keep his word. Even if Cheshire’s paranoia was unwarranted, it wasn’t as if he was going to get any sleep with so many mysteries piled on his shoulders.

Jakub pressed his thumb gingerly to the inside of Cheshire’s palm and found the sigil unnaturally warm against his skin. “What happened to you, Chesh?” he wondered aloud, and he watched Cheshire’s restless slumber through the rest of the night.

***

Cheshire wasn’t quite the same for a while after that. Jakub seemed to be the only one who noticed.

They still spent their evenings at the Bottom Feeder, drinking and smoking. Grace sang her jazz and afterward would curl up under Cheshire’s arm, showered with his eager attentions. Hannah chased them often out of back rooms when they tried to sneak away. Eventually rumors spread that some of the Irish boys had up and vanished, and Jakub had his suspicions, but no one came to Kozlow looking for them, or for Cheshire. Life went on as normal.

But Jakub noticed that Cheshire’s grandstanding had ground to a near halt. He took every loading job Kozlow offered and shied away from the safecracking he had become known for. He didn’t offer to light cigarettes anymore.

Jakub mentioned it to Barney, who only snorted and said, “Maybe he finally burned himself bad enough.” Though Barney didn’t usually have insight worth a penny, Jakub couldn’t shake the feeling that he was right. 

And even after Cheshire gradually eased back into his normal shtick and routine, Jakub kept a close eye, conscious of a danger he couldn’t begin to identify, but hopeful he would eventually get Cheshire to tell him the truth.

 


End file.
